Chuck is the author of the published novels: Blackbirds, Mockingbird, Under the Empyrean Sky, Blue Blazes, Double Dead, Bait Dog,Dinocalypse Now, Beyond Dinocalypse and Gods & Monsters: Unclean Spirits. He also the author of the soon-to-be-published novels: The Cormorant, Blightborn (Heartland Book #2), Heartland Book #3, Dinocalypse Forever, Frack You, and The Hellsblood Bride. Also coming soon is his compilation book of writing advice from this very blog: The Kick-Ass Writer, coming from Writers Digest.

He, along with writing partner Lance Weiler, is an alum of the Sundance Film Festival Screenwriter’s Lab (2010). Their short film, Pandemic, showed at the Sundance Film Festival 2011, and their feature film HiM is in development with producers Ted Hope and Anne Carey. Together they co-wrote the digital transmedia drama Collapsus, which was nominated for an International Digital Emmy and a Games 4 Change award.

Chuck has contributed over two million words to the game industry, and was the developer of the popular Hunter: The Vigil game line (White Wolf Game Studios / CCP). He was a frequent contributor to The Escapist, writing about games and pop culture.

Much of his writing advice has been collected in various writing- and storytelling-related e-books.

He currently lives in the forests of Pennsyltucky with wife, two dogs, and tiny human.

He is likely drunk and untrustworthy. This blog is NSFW and probably NSFL.

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Chuck Wendig is a novelist, screenwriter, and game designer. This is his blog. He talks a lot about writing. And food. And pop culture. And his kid. He uses lots of naughty language. NSFW. Probably NSFL. Be advised.

Ingluourouious Basturds, Or However It’s Spelled

Overall, it has a ton of compelling elements. But those elements fail to come together, and the end result is a big, bloated, clumsy mess of a movie. You ever read a dish on a menu, and your eyes glance over all the ingredients in the dish you’re about to order, and you think, “Whoo-ee, that sounds scrum-diddly-icious?”

And then the plate comes to the table, you take a bite, and…

Ennnnh? Not only isn’t it as good as it sounded, but it’s like the chef got lazy? Didn’t really bring the whole soup together? Maybe he fell asleep in the stock pot or something?

The film itself is home to two different movies, and these two different movies stumble drunkenly toward one another, and commingle at the end in little more than a messy tongue kiss before once more parting ways. One film is about the so-called “inglourious basterds” (englorius basstards?) engaging in all their Nazi-killing bidness. The other more compelling film is about an escaped Jewish girl who runs a cinema in the middle of Paris under an assumed identity.

The Basterds themselves are an almost meaningless element in the narrative. They are as the previews suggest — Nazi-killers. It gets no more complex than that. We don’t really find out why non-Jew Aldo Raines is running this crew. Don’t really find out what’s up with what’s probably a noose-scar around his neck. We don’t know what’s up with the Nazi-killing Nazi, Stiglitz. Worse, a handful of the actual Basterds themselves simply… disappear toward the latter third of the film. Poof. Gone. (Am I weird in that I wanted Samm Levine to have… maybe an actual spoken line of dialogue?)

And yet, the film still clocks in at almost three hours. For all that it appears to have cut out (the previews are home to scenes that the film does not seem to possess), it still keeps in lots of draggy moments that’ll have you checking your watch.

It’s not that it’s a bad movie. Again, it has good stuff. Christopher Waltz as Hans Landa is priceless. The character, too, is priceless, as a Nazi you hate to love, and love to hate in equal measure. Brad Pitt turns in half of a good performance — the other half falls to a lazy, phoned-in schtick as a Tennessee hillbilly. Some of the writing is top notch. Some of the writing is bulging with the fumes of self-indulgence. Melanie Laurent as Shosanna Dreyfus gets a big thumbs-up, while Eli Roth gets a big thumbs-down.

Sometimes it’s sharp, crisp, funny, tense. Other times it lumbers, it’s comical when it shouldn’t be, and it plays goofy with history.

So. It’s not good. It’s not bad. It’s just disappointing and messy, like an overflowing diaper.

In other movie stuffs:

James Cameron’s Avatar trailer earns a big shrug from me. I mean, it’s Cameron, so it’ll probably be good. It looks pretty. But I am, as yet, not wowed by his supposed revolution in effects. The trailer is appropriately cool, but that’s about it. I hear the 3D effects are mind-blowing, though, so I still have hopes. Despite my lack of enthusiasm, I have a feeling it’ll still get me in the end.

I’m surprised to find that I really am excited about The Wolfman, though. Not sure what it is about it, but it does something for me — in the trailer, at least.

You want to see a real revolution in special effects, check out the $30-million-but-looks-like gold District 9. In fact, just go see that this weekend. Skip the Tarantino until it hits DVD with all its deleted scenes re-added and so you can see it in “full mess” mode. For now, go visit with the prawns of South Africa.

Reminder: I’m in LA next week. If you’re in LA, tell me, so I can see you. If you’re anywhere else, I’ll try to blog as the week goes on. I’ll surely tweet/twat/twit.

Of course, I still HAD to see it. Your review wa spot-on. And – by really, really lowering my expectations – allowed me to enjoy the movie.
Well, half of it.
If QT had just ditched the Basterd, it would have been a damn fine movie. Oh, and also kept the basement tavern scene.
p.s. I *hate* Eli Roth and all of his torture porn movies.